


Roommate

by sandpapersnowman



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Dark, Frottage, M/M, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so i found <a href="http://motorkink.dreamwidth.org/272.html?thread=556048#cmt556048">this prompt</a> and fell in love with it and it's gotten completely out of hand.<br/>also! the wonderful <b><a href="quimmit.tumblr.com">quimmit</a></b> did <a href="http://quimmit.tumblr.com/post/33483260516/umm-i-drew-a-fanart-of-a-lovely-muck-fic-by">fanart</a> for it! ;v;</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr mirrors for everything [here](sandpapersnowmantumblr.com/ssnowmanfic)!

“…A slave, sir?”

“Think of them as a… A roommate! Or assistant!”

“I’m not sure if I’m very comfortable with this, sir.”

Abraham Kane frowns. “This is a privilege that very few Kane Co. operatives are allowed, Lieutenant. You should be grateful.”

It’s ‘lieutenant’ that gets Mike, another reminder that he has moved up the ranks another rung, and, holding back a proud grin, he concedes.

“…Alright.” He clears his throat. “So how does this work?”

Kane’s arm wraps around his shoulders, and he looks back out at Deluxe from the top of the Kane Co. building. “We’ll find a few people from the program we think you might like, and have you meet with them.”

“Program?”

“Of course. You don’t think that we’d have people doing this against their will, do you?” Kane smiles at him, patting him on the back and nudging him toward the door at the end of the room. “I’ll have someone contact you in a few days when we’ve gotten a few people together, okay, buddy?”

Mike grins wider, and obediently leaves the room.

When he gets back to the dormitory he once shared with a fellow lieutenant, he quickly logs his meeting with Kane in his journal before laying back on his small bed. He thinks it’s kind of silly and pointless to have the higher officers keeping track of their whereabouts at all times of the day, but he guesses it could be useful.

He glances over at the empty bed on the other end of the room. Well, Kane giving him the unit to himself made a lot more sense, now that he was offering him a… ‘Roommate’.

He’s still not sure how comfortable he is about this. He thinks that Kane would probably let him back out if he wanted to; after all, he’d be practically _owning_ another human. It was strange.

Kane had countered calling the person a ‘slave’ by making it seem jovial. And he supposed that it was okay, since these people wanted to be in the… ‘Program’.

He sighs, rolling onto his side and quickly falling asleep in the silence.


	2. Unit 88

He goes through the next couple days as usual, performing his new duties as Lieutenant Chilton, and almost forgets about Kane’s offer until he is woken up early in the morning, an hour before even the hard-working cadets’ alarms go off.

He’s confused for a second, but changes into his uniform and salutes the two soldiers that have been waiting outside his door. One moves in front of him, and the other walks behind him, and together they chorale him down a few hallways and up an elevator to Kane’s office. He rubs his eyes one last time before stepping inside, and the soldiers finally leave him.

Kane is waiting, smiling cheerfully at him, and Mike salutes him as is customary. He doesn’t glance at the line of people against the wall perpendicular to him, knowing that the time will come for him to address them.

Abraham Kane walks behind him and claps both of his hands onto Mike’s shoulders.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” his voice rumbles above his head, and he feels himself pulled to the side as he’s steered toward the people. “These are the people we thought you might like, and a couple others, just in case. Go ahead and get familiar with them, Chilton.”

Kane pushes him forward, and he finds himself face-to-face with the first person in line. Normal-looking girl, about his height, maybe a couple years older than himself. Soft features, and a shy, almost nervous smile.

He grins and sticks his hand out to shake hers, but when she goes to shake his, the gloved guard beside her grabs her wrist.

Kane laughs behind him. “Don’t touch them. We developed a code that integrates with them and controls most of the brain’s chemistry. One touch and the bond formed by certain chemical increases will be instantaneous to whoever they’re touched by. We started the program to test it. It’s proven successful in the past, so we kept it going.”

Mike nods absent-mindedly, trying not to dwell on what Kane may or may not have just implied. He hopes not, and restores his smile towards the girl.

Half an hour later, he’s at the third-to-last person in a line of what was fifteen people. It’s now six, Mike having dismissed the people who very obviously wanted to be part of the program. Somewhere between hearing about favorite colors, sexual orientation, and various talents, it had occurred to him that maybe all of these people _weren’t_ here by their own free will.

A few had winced when they were spoken to, but all nine of the people he’d sent back had been trying very, very hard to be chosen, even with Mike acting cold and barely smiling at them. He knows that by now, Kane is going to expect him to choose someone, but he doesn’t want to choose someone that _wants_ to be here. Some of them _want_ to be chosen, or owned, or they had put themselves in this program just to get time off, and one of them had simply been a ‘submissive’. Kane had been following just behind him while he spoke with them, and had introduced the ‘unit’ himself.

“This one’s one of those kids who just wants someone to beat them into the ground and they’ll still be grateful. We added him in case you wanted a unit to take your anger out on.”

Mike had faintly shaken his head, and the man had pouted and been led away. He’s not here to find someone to bend to his will or who wants to be controlled. At this point, he just wants to help someone get out of this program so they won’t be chosen by someone who is.

The boy he’s currently standing in front now of seems... Well, terrified. He’s visibly shaking, and although Mike has the feeling that he wouldn’t be able to see his eyes anyway with the mop of blonde hair covering most of his face, his head is hanging down, his chin almost touching his chest.

“...Hello?” Mike asks cautiously.

The boy says nothing, which is a bad move by the way Kane has pushed Mike aside and is now wearing the same thick gloves as the guards.

He grabs the boy by his hair and tugs him up to see his face, and although Mike winces, he has to admit that he does look better with his high cheekbones and pale, blue eyes visible.

“What number are you?”

The boy swallows and flinches away with a frightened whimper, although with Kane’s hand in his hair, he can’t do much to regain his small bubble of space and security.

“Eighty-eight,” he squeaks.

Kane lets go of him and turns to Lieutenant Chilton.

“This one is pretty much useless. He was in the soldier program, but kept messing with the bots, taking them apart and toying with their programming. He’s not worth much.”

Mike shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’d like to talk to him, if that’s alright, sir.”

After a few more minutes, Mike finds out that Unit 88’s name is Chuck, he’s pretty good with robots, and after some bullying from Kane, he quietly admits that he’s a virgin. It’s when he’s awkwardly trying to look out the window that Mike sees the collar around his neck. It looks kind of like the Elite’s booster bracelets, but wider, the red glow seeming to pulse in time with his heartbeat. All the others have had the same kind, but it only just now strikes him that they look good, even if he hates to admit it.

He remembers what Kane had said about the program, and figures that the collar probably connects directly into his spinal cord. He holds back a shiver at the thought, and decides that when he chooses one of them, _if_ he chooses one of them, he’ll try to figure out how it works, and if he can disable it.

He barely listens to the last two people he has to speak to after that; he’s torn between being worried about Chuck, and thinking that it’d be nice to share a room with him, and that he’d make a good conversational partner. When the last person finishes talking and smiles weakly at him, he’s in the middle of wondering if there was anyone else in this program who would be as nice to Chuck as he would be, and wouldn’t take advantage of him.

“Well?” Kane’s voice snaps him harshly out of his thoughts, and he automatically stands straighter.

“Yes, sir?”

Kane frowns at him. “Well, which one do you want?”

It’s not a hard decision, but it takes him a second to remember what number Chuck was. Why were they numbered? That just seemed... Inhuman.

He considers asking if he _has to_ choose one, but Kane is watching him expectantly. These six look afraid. He doesn’t know what kind of treatment they get on a daily basis, but Kane had called Chuck _worthless_ , and he looked scared out of his mind.

He walks back down the short line of people, and notices that on each pristine, white, Kane Co. uniform, there is a small badge with a number pinned to each buttoned-up collar.

_88._

“Sir?”

Kane turns to him with a warm smile. “Lieutenant?”

“I think Unit 88 will be fine.”

His superior scowls at the unit, then frowns at Mike. “Are you sure?” He gestures to the girl beside Unit 88. “Unit 51 is blonde, too, and she can complete the minimum-requirement physical course. 88 couldn’t even finish the mile in under twenty minutes.”

Mike shakes his head. “I’m sure she’d be a great... Assistant. But I’m perfectly capable of managing on my own, and I’m sure someone above me could put her to better use.” He smiles, a little more confidently. “I’ll take him back to my room and get him familiar with my schedule and such, and for now, I’m sure one of the other lieutenants wouldn’t mind covering for me for the day.”

Kane nods, because although he doesn’t like the idea of one of his men taking the day off, Chilton was a kid who was going places.

Mike’s smile quirks into a wide grin. “Thank you, sir.”


	3. Activation

Without touching his ‘unit’ directly, he leads him to the elevator at the end of the room, stepping in beside him and waiting until the door closes to drop his smile and sigh out the breath he’s been holding.

He turns to the blonde, who is shyly trying to stay as far away from him as possible without seeming like he is.

“Chuck, right?”

He nods.

“You okay?”

He nods again.

“It’s okay to talk, y’know. You feeling alright?”

He nods again, but this time he at least follows it with a quiet, “Fine.”

Mike frowns, and the elevator opens to his floor. He motions for Chuck to follow him, and takes him to a door toward the end of the hall. Mike holds it open for him, and he still shrinks away from him as he passes. He closes his door and sighs.

Mike drops down onto his bed, and nods his head to the other cot against the opposite wall.

“You can relax. I’m not going to beat you up or anything. I didn’t even want a... Roommate. Pet. Whatever.” Mike sighs to himself before turning his head to Chuck again and smiling. “So, did they tell you how the collars work? That’s what introduces the code or whatever into your system, right?”

Chuck nods, his hand coming up to run his thumb along the pulse of light. “Yeah,” he mutters, laughing nervously. “I only heard a couple of people talk about it, but what I think it does is trigger a burst of chemical production--dopamine, adrenaline, the stuff that makes you happy or signals attraction to another person or whatever--in association with a certain person’s chemical trace and DNA composition.”

Mike’s eyes get wider. “Really? So you wear the collar all the time and you just... Can’t touch anyone? Because you’ll get attached to them?”

Chuck shakes his head. “Not quite. They only put them on right before we’re shown off to people.” He looks down at his lap with a shy smile. “People don’t really want the wimpy kid. Why’d you choose me, anyway?”

Mike sits up on his elbows, avoiding looking at him. “You looked really scared. A lot of the officers here... They can be cruel. I mean, really, really, terrible. I didn’t want to risk someone like you getting stuck with someone else. You’re someone that should be protected, I guess.” He laughs nervously as well, and risks a glance in Chuck’s direction only to find that his face is completely red. “So, uh,” Mike starts again, clearing his throat and changing the subject. “Those come off, then? The collars?”

Chuck nods. “I can’t figure out how, though. The people that stay with us usually do it, but it’s still easier said than done,” he mumbles. Mike can see it written across his face that he’s obviously tried to do it himself in the past, and without success.

Mike sits up completely, studying it from across the room for a second. “Do you want me to try?” he asks tentatively.

Chuck looks at him again, and looks afraid, and Mike feels powerless for not being able to help this poor kid. He can’t be much older than himself, if at all, and if Mike has to guess, he thinks that he might be a good year older than Chuck.

“I don’t want it to... To bond me to you, or whatever. I mean, you seem really nice so far, just... That whole... ‘Free will’ thing, it’s kind of appealing.” He smiles apologetically and swallows, but it seems to be in relatively good humor.

Mike smiles back. “I won’t touch you. I just want to get a good look at it. Can I?”

Chuck hesitates for a second, then stands up. He walks toward Mike’s bed, and Mike moves closer to his pillow so that Chuck can sit down with some space between them.

Mike leans forward and Chuck winces away, but Mike smiles at him.

“Hey. Just trust me, okay? I promise I’m not going to touch you.”

After a moment, he leans back toward him and closes his eyes. He tips his chin up so that Mike can see the collar, and he’s embarrassed when he remembers that his pulse is going to be very plainly mimicked in the surges of light.

Mike frowns. The collar doesn’t have any seams that he can see, besides the light on Chuck’s pulse-point. He leans closer and carefully holds Chuck’s hair out of the way to look at the back. He hears a quiet, instinctive gasp, a mixture of fear and warning, and pulls away.

“Sorry, I was just trying to see the entire thing,” Mike mumbles, his face turning red as he realizes just how close they’d been. He clears his throat. “I can’t find anywhere that it might open, either. I guess we’ll have to keep working on it. In the meantime, I’ll try to find gloves so that I can be hands-on about it.”

The light flickers a deep purple just seconds before the communication pad beside his door lights up.

“Lieutenant!”

Kane’s voice feels too loud in such an empty space, and Chuck somehow manages to curl in on himself even more. So much for getting him to open up.

“Yes, sir?” Mike stands and walks in front of it, a holographic bust of Kane appearing in front of him in what he soon realizes is a pre-recorded message.

“Hello! Your Unit’s collar has been activated. Make sure you get them bound to you soon, it’ll start acting up if it’s not triggered. You’ve got a couple hours, if you’re busy, but after that there have been reported malfunctions concerning chemical bursts. The signal sent by the collar becomes more insistent, and will sometimes incite reactions in the hyposalad, and the begonia... What?” He looks to someone offscreen before scowling and turning back to the camera. “Your pet’s gonna malfunction. Bond with them,” he states bluntly, and then the feed cuts out.

Mike turns to Chuck, both of them a little frightened.

“Do you know what he meant?” Mike asks, hoping that since he understood how the collar works, he might know what Kane was trying to say.

“No,” Chuck mumbles, looking down at Mike’s bed. “But I heard some people... Joking. About what happens if the collars malfunction.”

Mike sits down next to him again, worried. “What’d they say?”

He clears his throat, his voice pitching higher and higher. “I might go insane, or I might seem... Salacious.” He practically whispers the last word, the red light of his collar wavering and pulsing faster, and the blush slowly spreading down his neck.

“...What?” he asks, partly because he barely heard him, and partly because he’s not quite sure what ‘salacious’ means.

“I might be sort of... Concupiscent.” Mike just blinks at him, and Chuck makes a choked, frustrated noise. “I’m going to get excited, okay? The people manufacturing these said that it was the most common thing that happens if an activated collar doesn’t follow its procedures within a couple hours, and they said that even though they hadn’t seen much of it in females I don’t think we have to worry about that because I’m a male, of course, and...” 

He trails off, teeth pricking into his lip and nearly drawing blood. Chuck’s face might actually burst into flames at this point, and Mike is staring at him, stunned.

“So, it’s either... We bond, or you might...?”

Chuck nods. “We’re pretty much gonna bond either way, if what I’ve heard about it is true.”

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aww yeah getting a little pg-13 up in here


	4. Theoreticals

Mike sighs, and Chuck looks nearly green.

"Hey, man, it's okay," Mike tells him, wanting to somehow try to comfort him and not knowing how.

Chuck sighs. "We should go ahead and get the bonding over with. It'll happen anyway if I'm this close to you for much longer."

Mike frowns, stands up, and heads to the door. "Stay here. I'm gonna get some gloves thick enough to touch you, and we're gonna get that thing off of you."

Chuck looks like he wants to say something, but only nods his head with a small smile.

Mike is halfway out when Chuck stands up.

"Wait!"

Mike stops, his hand on the panel to close the door.

"...Yeah?"

"I, um... I heard that the ‘side-effects’ set in faster when you're younger, but I also heard that they set in faster when your heartbeat is jumpy. Uh. Either way, I don't think we have much time, so... Please hurry." Chuck smiles tensely, and Mike grins back.

"I will."

He locks the door behind him, quickly heading to the nearest supply room. He finds all sorts of things, but no gloves.

After an hour and a half of searching (and having to occasionally hide while he prays whoever is walking past doesn’t see or hear him), he finally finds a pair that might be thick enough, and tries to get back to his room as fast as possible.

Instead, he turns the corner and crashes directly into Kane.

He stands up straight, saluting him and glad for having the forethought to hide the gloves in his jacket.

"Sir," he says politely, plastering a smile on his face.

Kane nods back. "Lieutenant. Enjoying your unit?"

Mike swallows nervously. "Yeah, uh, he's--it's great. He's taking a nap right now, I told him to. I was just heading back up."

“Good, good. Glad you’re enjoying him.” His grin becomes suggestive. “Have you bonded with him yet, or are you waiting for the collar to malfunction?”

He grins back, trying to hide his honest reaction. The thought of doing that to the poor kid against his will was borderline repulsive. “No, not yet, and I don’t want to risk the malfunction. So if you’ll excuse me, sir...” He steps to the side, opening the hallway for Kane.

The taller man looks down at him for a second, a bit suspicious, but lets him go.

As soon as he gets to the elevator, Mike leans back against the cool metal, sighing.

He hopes Chuck is alright. And he really, really hopes he’s not too late.

The door opens and he practically sprints back to his room. His hand slams against the access panel and he slips inside the moment it opens.

He takes a deep, relieved breath, locking the door again behind him. He turns around, smiling at Chuck when he takes the gloves from his jacket. “These’ll work, right?”

Chuck nods, smiling back. He’s on his side on the free bed, curled up with his arms wrapped around himself. “Y-Yeah, those should be okay.”

“How’re you feeling?”

He shakes his head, sitting up and making room for Mike. “Just try to get it off of me, okay?”

Mike pulls the gloves on, trying to distract himself, but he doesn’t miss the fact that Chuck’s cheeks are redder, and the light pulsing on his neck is nearly strobing. He sits on the bed, carefully grabbing Chuck’s thin shoulders and turning him.

He pushes Chuck’s hair to the side, his fingers barely brushing his neck, and Chuck winces.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and leans closer to look at the collar.

“‘S fine,” Chuck squeaks. “But, uh, s-sir--”

“Mike.”

“Mike, I don’t think this is a good idea, honestly. We should just bond and get it over with. I think I’m already a little bonded to you just from being in here and being near you and stuff, but it’s still malfunctioning.”

“Chuck, we may as well try.”

“Lieutenant, it’s--”

“ _Mike_.”

“ _Mike_ , it’s dangerous. I mean, even if you _do_ manage to get it undone, that doesn’t change the fact that even if it doesn’t _kill_ me, it’s going to _really_ hurt to get out.”

Mike’s fingers stop fiddling with the metal. “What do you mean?”

Chuck turns himself around so that they’re facing each other, and so that the cold gloves don’t touch him anymore. “The collar doesn’t do its job from the surface.” Mike frowns, not quite understanding what Chuck is trying to say. “It’s implanted. I don’t know if it hurts going in, because I kind of fainted when I saw the needle, but don’t you think that they’d have some way to keep it in? For all we know, it could be wrapped around my spinal cord by now.”

Mike tries to come back with some way that it might work, or some way they might be able to get it off, but after a few painful seconds of silence, he just sighs.

“I guess you’re right.” He pauses. “So... It’s malfunctioning?”

Chuck nods, his fidgeting picking back up a little.

“How would bonding stop it from malfunctioning?”

Chuck clears his throat, but his voice still comes out rougher than it had been. “All I heard was that if you don’t bond within a few hours, it’ll try to trigger it. My best guess is that it’s programmed to link its host, whoever it’s attached to, and their... Owner.” He coughs again, but Mike can’t tell if he’s uncomfortable from using that term or from his physical circumstances. “I’m starting to think that it’s not a malfunction, but a kind of fallback method. After all, bonding happens when two people touch, and touching does happen a lot in those kinds of situations.”

They both laugh nervously, but Chuck’s fidgeting is getting worse, and he’s biting into his lip and his entire face is an even deeper red than before.

“Does it stop? Like, if you’re still not bound to someone for long enough, will it stop with the signals or whatever?”

Chuck thinks for a moment. “Not sure. There might be some kind of limit, but if there is, it would probably start up again randomly, and that wouldn’t be good,” he mutters.

“Oh. So do you think we should...?”

Chuck shakes his head and looks down. “We can bond, or I can try to wait it out, but there’s really no winning for anyone in either situation.” He sighs. “You should have chosen someone that would have been of _use_ ,” he grumbles, glancing up at him before pulling his knees up to his chest.

Mike cocks his head and frowns. “I didn’t want a pet. Kane very forcibly offered me one, and you can’t exactly say no to the man in charge.”

Chuck doesn’t say anything for a minute, but when he does, it’s preluded by a groan. “We should just get it over with. This is really, really uncomfortable, and we’re not going to be able to hold out forever, sir.”

Mike gives a short laugh. “For the last time, call me _Mike_.” He still has his gloves on, and reaches out to squeeze Chuck’s shoulder. “Look, if what you said about bonding is true, then we don’t have to really _do_ anything. I mean, all it does is tell you to think I’m attractive or something, right? We don’t have to actually do things. We can... We can shake hands, and the collar will work right, and then we won’t have to worry about anything. Okay?” He holds Chuck’s bangs out of his face and smiles at him, and Chuck gives a tiny, unsure grin back.

“Alright. So I’m gonna... Have a crush on you, because these collars are making me, and we won’t do anything about it. Okay.”

Mike’s grin falters. “I don’t mean it like that.” He lets go of Chuck and leans out of his personal space, studying the ceiling. “I mean, if you actually _did_ like me, that’d be different, but we can’t really tell without the collar, can we?” He looks back at Chuck, whose face is an embarrassed red; not aroused, _embarrassed_. “...What?”

Chuck winces and looks longingly at the smooth floor, wishing he could melt into it. “...What if I already liked you? Then the collar’s effect would just kinda be... Added.”

Mike grins. “I don’t think it would make much difference, if you did.”

“...Mike?”

Mike grins harder, proud that he doesn’t have to correct Chuck this time. “Yeah?”

“I... Wasn’t being hypothetical.”


	5. Functional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gettin' REAL pg-13 ohoho

Mike laughs, nervousness creeping into the sound. "What do you mean?"

Chuck makes an embarrassed groan, hiding his face in his hands. "Oh gosh, are you _really_ going to make me say it?"

He glances up at Mike nervously when he doesn't get an answer, and is met with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I'm a little confused," he explains.

Chuck buries his face in his hands again. " _Jesus_. Alright. So I'm not _gay_ , first of all. I've just never really liked... _Anybody_. Of any gender." He peeks up from his fingers to see if Mike is listening (he is, and intently), and turns away from him a bit to try and make this easier (it doesn't really help).

"So even though I'm not gay, when you walked in, you didn't... I could..." He sighs, mumbling something under his breath that sounds a lot like 'I can't believe I'm about to say this'.

"The thought of any of the other people owning me was awful and gross, especially because a lot of the people high up enough to get one of us are really old and it made me sick."

He hesitates, and Mike takes the moment to speak. "I'm only a lieutenant. I'm only being given you because Kane pretty much raised me. What's that have to do with this?"

Chuck winces, and quietly mutters, "Because the thought of someone as attractive as _you_ owning me didn't seem so bad."

Mike's eyebrows disappear behind his bangs, and he leans away from Chuck. " _Oh_. Well. I guess... I guess you're lucky that you got me, then?"

Chuck shakes his head, and when Mike can see through the blonde hair covering his eyes for just a second, Chuck's face is so red it's almost purple.

"No, not really. Because then when you started talking to me, I got nervous, and Kane made me look like an idiot, and--"

He's interrupted when Mike reaches out and pushes Chuck's hair from his face. He still has the gloves on, and for a second the line between the arousal caused by the collar and Chuck’s natural instincts is blurred.

"Hey, it's okay. I know Kane can be... Mean." His protected fingers card through Chuck's hair, brushing over his scalp and smoothing where his boss had tugged, and Chuck chokes down a whimper. "Go on."

Chuck swallows as hard as he can, and he can feel his eyes drifting closed as Mike continues to _pet_ him.

"H-He made me look like an idiot, and he told you about how useless I am--"

"--You're not useless." Mike's other hand very gently rests on his knee, and his thumb strokes gently. Chuck thinks he might cry if he doesn't stop this _now_.

" _Mike_ , it _hurts_ , oh God. The collar is making me really sensitive and you're driving me insane."

Mike blushes almost as hard as Chuck when he notices the very distinct change in Chuck’s posture. Chuck's fingers are gripping the blanket on the bed tightly, and although his hips are pressed down to try and hide the effect that the collar and light touches are having on him, his head is tilted back to lean into Mike's hand, and he's nearly on his toes just to get more contact on his knee.

He pulls away and Chuck bites his tongue, relieved that the stilumation is gone, but missing it, too.

"Sorry," he gasps quietly, almost panting now that he can breathe normally without moaning.

"It's fine," Mike replies immediately. "So. Uh. You were saying?"

"Oh, right, that I'm useless but wouldn't have a problem bonding with you," he muttered, amused with his own patheticness. But then he realizes what he's just said, and jumps up to put as much distance between them as possible. "Wow, sorry, I don't know where that came from." He turns away from Mike, and that preserves a little of the sparce dignity he has left.

"If you want to bond, we can. We don't have to really do anything, if you don't want, and I'm not going to force something on you if I want to do something and you don't. But for now, you need to bond before that thing kills you. You're not very comfortable, are you?"

Chuck slowly shakes his head.

"And you said it would stop triggering arousal or whatever if you were bound, right?"

Chuck shrugs, his arms coming up to hug himself tightly. "Probably."

"...Should we?"

Chuck sighs. "Do you want to?"

He hears Mike quietly considering it, and after a second he hears the squeak of bedsprings and Mike's footsteps. Chuck looks behind himself and is startled when Mike is right there.

Mike nods, holding his hand out for Chuck to shake it; he’s taken one of the gloves off. "Yeah. I think we should, for your sake. But it's not my decision."

 _There, there’s your permission, he’s fine with this, make it_ stop _._

Chuck turns around and clings to him, wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist and pulling them together. He buries his face in the crook of Mike’s neck, taking a deep, uneven breath when Mike’s hand settles hot on his hip. A sudden surge of feeling rushes through him, and suddenly all Chuck wants is to feel every angle on his owner, and he wants Mike's hands _everywhere_ and he wants his other hand out of the other stupid glove and he wants it all _now_. His forehead against Mike’s neck and the warmth bleeding through to his hipbone isn’t enough.

His hands move up to grip the lapels of Mike's uniform for dear life.

"Glove," he whimpers, but Mike doesn't move. Chuck pulls away himself, pushing Mike forward to the other side of the room while struggling to get Mike's fingers free one at a time. When Mike falls back onto the bed, he gets Chuck's drift, and pushes his hands away. Chuck crawls onto his lap, and by the time he tosses the glove toward the other bed, Chuck has his arms wrapped around Mike's shoulders. The warmth coming from Mike and the feeling of human contact after going so long without it practically has him moaning in Mike’s ear.

"Chuck, are you sure you want to do this?" Mike says hurriedly, feeling Chuck's fingers run down his front and snake under the hem of his Kane Co. jacket, moving from his waist to his back and curving around his shoulders for a hug that presses them together in _just_ the right way.

"Please, I do, I _really_ do," Chuck pleads, then hesitates, still panting heavily. "Uh, u-unless you don't want to. It's fine." He swallows, trying to keep his voice steady. "The effects should start wearing off soon, anyway." He takes his hands out from under Mike's jacket, and sits up on his knees to separate them. "Sorry, sir."

Mike's hand cups his neck and drags him down for a kiss, and it's like a slow burn that warms Chuck up until he's squirming. "It’s okay if you want to," he whispers carefully, biting very, very gently at Chuck's lip. He pulls back a bit, looking at Chuck with a sweet smile. “Call me Mike? Please?”

Chuck gives him a tiny nod, shivering once before continuing. "Okay, yeah," he whispers back. “Mike.”

He leans forward into Mike for a grinning, eager kiss, but instead hears Kane's voice booming over their communications system, and falls off of him and onto the floor in surprise.

"Hello! So, you have your own unit from the Roommate Program! Please drop by my office soon to retrieve your pet's belongings and learn how to use the collar functions!"

Kane scowls at someone offscreen and adds one last thing.

"We're going to send this message when we have your unit's stuff, so get your ass up here."

They stare at the space the projection had been in, and unsurprisingly, Mike speaks first.

"That was some awful timing," he jokes.

Chuck, however, is not even trying to be jovial, but Mike doesn't realize why until Chuck ekes it out in disbelief.

"'Collar _functions_ '?!"


	6. Withdrawn

Mike’s weak grin falters. “Oh. Right.” He stands, towering above Chuck for a second before reaching out to help him up. The tiny smile he gets is more telling than the mumbled gratitude.

“How much stuff are we picking up?” Mike asks, breaking the silence before Chuck has more time to think about what Kane had said.

Chuck shrugs. “Probably not much. Just some computer gear and clothes. Toothbrush, hairbrush...” He shrugs again. “Basic necessities.” 

Mike nods to himself. “Okay. So, uh... I’ll go down there and get your stuff for you.”

Mike straightens out his uniform, facing the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, but winds up accidentally wrinkling it more. He turns red when he has to undo his belt altogether and completely re-tuck his shirt. He hadn’t thought they’d gotten _that_ disheveled, but the increased clinking of his buckle from his jittery hands tells otherwise.

When he turns back to the door leading to the hall, Chuck is standing, staring intently at the ground.

“I’m gonna go with you, if that’s okay. In case you need help carrying anything.” Chuck clears his throat. “Plus, I kinda wanna know what kind of tech they’ve got in my head,” he mumbles, laughing nervously.

Mike smiles awkwardly, happy that Chuck’s not afraid of him, but still bothered by the fact that he seems almost terrified of the collar.

“That’s fine. I don’t think this is going to take too long.”

Mike adjusts his jacket one last time and opens the door, gesturing for Chuck to go through first. He does, with an embarrassed smile, and Mike quickly finds that being a gentleman gets a lovely blush from Chuck. He decides immediately that it’s a good thing, even though Chuck ducks his head down more to try to hide it.

The walk from the room to the elevator is led by Mike in comfortable silence, his pace slightly off from Chuck’s and making the corridor echo constantly with footsteps. After he enters the code in the elevator to go to Kane’s office, he leans back against the smooth wall as their slow ascension begins. Chuck does the same, mirroring him on the opposite wall.

Chuck is staring at him, and when he realizes that Chuck doesn’t know Mike’s noticed, he grins.

“What?”

Chuck only jumps a little, but he stops staring in favor of leaning forward. His lips are a surprisingly pleasant warmth, pressed against the corner of his mouth, and are gone before Mike can even react.

Mike wants to ask what that was for, but Chuck looks so embarrassed that he decides that if nothing else, it can wait. 

When they arrive in Kane’s office, Mike sees a couple other officers there, but Chuck seems to be the only person in the group with a collar.

“Before we give you your unit’s things, I’d like to present a demonstration, courtesy of Lieutenant Hart and Unit 43.”

Mike and Chuck discreetly move to the wall along with the other officers waiting. Most of them are much older than Mike, and it’s just a somewhat sickening reminder of how much special attention Kane seems to pay him.

Kane moves back against the opposite wall. Lieutenant Hart and a girl in a collar stand at his side, the three of them lined up perfectly. All three are dressed in the same pristine clothes, each with a neatly embroidered Kane Co. badge. The girl in the collar is trying very hard to keep a straight face, but if Mike looks carefully enough, it becomes obvious that her bottom lip is wobbling and her eyes are watering up. Mike wonders if she’s had to take part in this before.

By the way she shuts her eyes so tightly as soon as Kane speaks, he thinks she probably has, and from the reluctant way she follows when the officer tugs her into the middle of the room, he’s sure this isn’t going to be fun for her.

"Like any pet," Kane begins from the wall, watching closely and glancing up at the line of officers. "The key to training is reinforcement."

The lieutenant barks, "Kneel!" and the girl drops to her knees. Mike can’t quite tell if it’s a reflex or obedience. He recognizes the lieutenant as someone he’s actually spoken to before, and he swallows nervously, glancing at Chuck before returning his eyes to the unit and owner being used as example.

The man and girl don't move as Kane walks slow circles around them, continuing his presentation.

"As you know, the collars bind your unit to you using some of Kane Co.'s best technology. They become used to your personal signature, and eventually, being in contact with someone else for too long will hurt: a safety feature developed to keep them loyal. It will eventually be forced to return to its owner, because that person will become associated with feeling better." He nods to the officer, who steps away and lets Kane drag her to her feet, one hand planting itself firmly on the back of her thin neck.

She winces, and her collar's red light pulses quicker. Mike looks at Chuck again, and he's definitely scared. Mike wants to take his hand or something to try to put him at ease, but in this situation, it might just scare him more.

The girl is shaking, Kane's fingers digging in on either side of her collar. "Back when people were able to get their hands on such things, some people took drugs recreationally." He scowls at her when she barely catches a sob in her throat, and it's obvious that she's trying to curl in on herself. Whatever the collar is supposed to do, it looks like it’s working.

"If someone became _dependent_ on them..." He pauses. The word is snarled and his fingers twitch, making her cry out in pain. "Their bodies would shut down without it." The brief look of hatred has disappeared from his face, and he smiles slyly again. "Obviously, we can't create the addiction so quickly. But we can mimic what happens without it. We call it a Withdrawal."

He lets go of her shoulder, but although she doesn’t seem to be in an increasing pain anymore, she’s doubled over on herself. She looks up at the lieutenant and reaches for his ankle with tears in her eyes, but he steps away.

“Stay,” he snaps, and she holds back a broken sob. She’s shaking, and although almost every other officer in the room is unfazed by it, Mike knows without looking around that there’s got to be at least one or two other officers that are uncomfortable or unnerved... Right?

Her palms are flat on the floor, and her fingers twitch against the smooth surface. She looks like she wants to beg for something, plead for them to make whatever is happening stop, but Mike thinks that if her ‘owner’ is so indifferent to her being treated like this, he’s sure it wouldn’t help.

The lieutenant finally smirks, stepping forward and leaning over to grip her jaw tightly. Her entire body relaxes, and her hands immediately grip his forearm to keep him there, even though there’s no way she’s not going to have bruises from his fingers.

He lets her stand, wearing the same smug, pompous grin, and he doesn’t even look at her as she clings to his arm tightly. They step back to the spot they’d been in when Mike and Chuck--oh God, Chuck, how was he handling this?--entered, and Kane claps slowly.

“Good, very good.”

Mike glances at Chuck. He’s gone completely pale, and the light at his neck is blinking at a breakneck speed. “Now,” Kane continues, picking up from where he’d left off only minutes ago. “Your units won’t behave like that for a while. Unit 43 has been with Lieutenant Hart for a _very_ long time. She has grown completely dependent on him, and will live in loyal servitude for the rest of her life.” He grins. “Lieutenant Chilton, would you step forward, please?”

Mike’s blood runs cold, but he swallows and steps forward obediently, leaving Chuck standing there frozen.

“Yes, sir?”

“C’mere.” Kane gestures to his side almost affectionately, and while in just about any other situation he’d feel that same sense of pride swell up, now he just feels... Sort of sick. He walks closer, standing in front of his boss, and is manhandled under Kane’s arm and toward the wall of officers and... Chuck. “Gentleman, this here is _Lieutenant_ Mike Chilton, the youngest Kane Co. officer to ever hold that title, and the youngest officer to ever be given a unit from the Roommate Program.” He shakes Mike a bit, jovially, and claps his hand on the boy’s chest, leaning in to quietly ask, “Have you bonded with your unit, son?”

Mike nods weakly, and the perverse smile he gets is enough to confirm his suspicions that bonding usually goes the way it almost went with him and Chuck.

“Good,” is mumbled, and then the hand on his chest is pointing at Chuck, oh, wait, no, why is it pointing at _Chuck_? “Unit 88! Get over here.” Kane lets Mike go, pushing him forward hard enough that he nearly stumbles into Chuck as he cautiously walks closer. The glance at the other officers confirms that they’re looking at him strangely, and Mike supposes that most people don’t get a ‘roommate’ of the same gender--the men, anyway.

Kane, either oblivious or indifferent to the obvious air of unease and awkwardness in the room, continues happily.

“Now, like the rest of you, Lieutenant Chilton was only given his unit a little while ago, and the effects won’t be as severe since the bond’s not as strong yet.” He moves between Mike and Chuck, his hand settling on Chuck’s shoulder almost loathingly. Chuck winces, a shiver going through him, and he seems uncomfortable. Not to the point of curling in on himself, but he’s squirming a bit and his entire body seems to shrink away from Kane’s wide palm.

He only keeps his hand on him a few more seconds before pulling away, stepping back and pushing Mike forward a bit.

Mike doesn’t touch Chuck, but instead leans forward to try to see past his bangs.

“Hey,” Mike whispers to him. “You feel okay?”

Chuck nods hesitantly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” is mumbled back, and Mike’s lips quirk into a small, relieved smile. He barely pats him on the arm, and with a nod back to Kane, he pulls Chuck back with him to the wall of officers, all eyes on him the entire few steps.

Kane’s grinning at them, and once they’re back in place, he scans the rest of the officers. He thinks for a moment, then shrugs to himself.

“Your unit’s belongings are in bags in auditorium B, floor one-thirteen. Regular work shifts resume tomorrow.”

Each officer stands tall and salutes, Chuck practically hiding behind Mike, and when they all file out of the room to head for the auditorium, he clings to the back of the Kane Co. jacket like his life depends on it.

They don’t say much on the way to the auditorium, or anything after Mike insists on carrying the white bag whose tag had ‘88’ written on it in blue. They settle into silence on the way back to Mike’s room, and when they finally walk through the door (Chuck first, Mike is a gentleman), he carefully slings the duffel from his shoulder onto the free--now occupied--bed.

Chuck is still silent, and sits on his bed beside his bag as Mike plops down on his own.

“...You okay, buddy? You sure you feel okay?”

Chuck looks up at him, although the only indication is the very slight tilt of his head. HE looks back down at the floor and nods.

“Yeah, I’m... I’m just fine.”

There’s an elephant in the room, and it’s blinking on Chuck’s neck.

After a couple painfully tense moments, Mike moves to the other side of the room and sits beside him.

“I’m not going to be like that, Chuck.”

It’s the first thing he can think of to say, but he means it.

Chuck gives a hopeless huff of a laugh beside him, and Mike’s stomach turns inside-out. Chuck doesn’t believe him.

“I mean it. That guy, he’s a monster. He doesn’t even treat his own men as well as he treated that girl.” He wants to put his arm around Chuck, or squeeze his shoulder, or _something_ , but he feels like physical contact is a line he doesn’t have permission to cross right now, even though he’s used to using it to comfort people.

It’s strange to have to do this without help from a friendly side-hug or pat on the back.

“We... _I’m_ not going to do anything. Okay? I won’t even poke you to get your attention or anything. You’ve got control over this, okay, man?” He smiles nervously at where he thinks his eyes might be, and hopes Chuck can tell he’s being sincere.

A few quiet seconds threaten to choke him, Mike holding his breath, but when Chuck speaks, he relaxes again.

“Fine.” He still doesn’t look up at him, and Mike feels like Chuck wants to say something, but... Won’t. Mike waits there in silence, watching him with an understanding smile, and when Chuck glances up to confirm that he’s still staring, he drops his head back down and groans. “I’m... I’m kinda scared, okay? It’s weird knowing that I might not be in control of my actions one day, and I don’t like it.”

Mike’s eyebrows raise behind his bangs. “Oh. Well... I think that’s only with a certain amount of... Y’know. Training. Which I’m not going to do.” He’s still smiling at Chuck, and this time gets a real laugh from him when he looks up.

“You look like a little kid pouting when you make that face, Lieuten--Mike.” He swallows and makes a tiny smile back at Mike, remembering to call him by his name and not his title.

“So,” Mike continues, clearing his throat. “You going to trust me, Chuck?”

Chuck shrugs. “Sure. Not like I have much of a choice.” He’s joking, but it doesn’t sound as bitter as Mike would have expected.

He’s making progress.


	7. Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They don’t touch, and they’re both fine with it._   
>  _Suddenly, though, he’s trying to find excuses for why he’s walking so close to him in the hallways, and why he’s more and more often finding himself spacing out and wondering if he and Mike could find a way to kiss and stuff without the collar being a factor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is completely relevant in like eight ways  
> tumblr mirror [here](http://sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com/post/43934133662/), and special thanks to [val](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rawrmynameisval) for beta'ing this for me uwu

Mike stays true to his word. Chuck had felt awkward, asking Mike if he could follow him around during the day, but they both find that it’s nice to have a companion, and it becomes part of their routine. After a couple weeks, he’s used to Chuck beside him during all of his work, Chuck not wanting to stay in his room all day, and Mike silently worrying about him at the back of his mind when he was alone.

They don’t touch, and they’re both fine with it.

After a couple months, Mike asks Chuck to pass him a screwdriver, and their fingers brush. Mike blushes and apologizes, and Chuck just swallows and insists it’s fine, he’s fine. He’s not, really. His fingertips are tingling, and there’s a pleasant buzz going through his head; everything seems so fuzzy, and would it really be so bad if he leaned on Mike a little? After all, nobody’s around, he’s just doing some maintenance on a bot, and...

Mike moves before he can, and falling face-first into the floor snaps Chuck out of whatever haze he was in.

Suddenly, though, he’s trying to find excuses for why he’s walking so close to him in the hallways, and why he’s more and more often finding himself spacing out and wondering if he and Mike could find a way to kiss and stuff without the collar being a factor.

He thinks that this might all be the collar, the way he kind of wants to do things with Mike, but from everything he’s heard, the collars are only physical. They might make you want to fool around with someone, or they might trick you into finding someone attractive, sure, but this seems different. He doesn’t want the physical things so much as he wants... Well, the first word that comes to mind is ‘attention’. He’s getting jealous when Mike speaks to male officers, sometimes even the female ones, and once or twice, his stomach has gone all fluttery when Mike grins at him.

Of course, every time he realizes he’s thinking about those things again, he shakes the thoughts from his head, quickly distracting himself with something else.

Mike notices Chuck’s strange behavior, but decides to ignore it. He thinks Chuck might just be uncomfortable with the suggestive looks his peers have taken to giving them, although that probably wouldn’t explain why Chuck has a new habit of tugging on his shirt to get his attention, not to mention his new fondness toward walking right at Mike’s side in the halls. He used to lagged behind, always seeming wary of the people around them and nervous about wherever they were headed (whether it was to work, or to the cafeteria, or even back to their room at the end of the day).

The day after the screwdriver incident, Chuck acts like he’s not feeling well, and spends the day pacing around their-- _Mike’s_ \--room, fidgeting and fiddling with anything he can get his hands on, thinking about the situation. He’s finally willing to accept that, okay, _maybe_ the collar wants him to do something, and _maybe_ he’s not completely against it. The problem, he thinks, is how to go about it.

He thinks about crawling into Mike's bed for a solid week before he actually does it. Eventually, he’s seriously doubting the idea of Mike kicking him out. The few days before he does it, he finds himself rationalizing that the collar can only create physical attraction; it can't make him fall in love.

He's perfectly fine with being physically attracted to Mike. He has strong, sharp features that Chuck has found himself staring at lately, and they're not exactly an eyesore. He's going to be fine; there's nothing... Romantic going on. Mike's his friend (he said so himself) and nothing more. Just because he might be attracted to him a little bit doesn't mean he can't control himself.

So it's on a particularly chilly night that he quietly shuffles out from under his blankets, pads silently across the room, and stops at the foot of Mike's bed.

He moves to the side, where Mike's face is peeking out from beneath the edge of the thick blanket, and Chuck lets himself watch the rise and fall of Mike's breath for a few peaceful moments. Soon, though, he's getting cold, and knows it's now or never (or some other night, but he's really not sure when he'll gather up the courage to try this again). His own bed, or Mike's?

He takes a deep breath and pulls Mike’s blanket back, trying not to disturb him as he slides under the covers.

Mike doesn’t stir at all until Chuck settles in, facing away from Mike. He shivers when Mike readjusts himself on the bed, asleep, and Chuck is pretty sure it’s the heat transferred when their backs press together that wakes him up.

“Go back to sleep,” Chuck whispers in the dark, sitting up a bit to try to get Mike to hear him better.

Mike doesn’t go back to sleep, and instead sits up tiredly.

“‘S wrong, man?” Mike mutters, yawning and looking over at him.

“Cold,” Chuck answers simply. He sits up a little, making eye contact with the other, much less coherent occupant of the bed. “Is this alright?”

Mike just shrugs, laying back down a little further to the edge to give Chuck more room, facing up. “Sure.”

Chuck tries to be as quiet as possible, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders and facing Mike. He closes his eyes, despite being wide awake, and hopes that the light on his collar doesn’t disturb him, even if it’s dimmer at night; it gives away his pulse, and Chuck knows for a fact that it’s blinking much faster than it should be.

He breathes quietly up until Mike turns on his side, half asleep and now facing Chuck. He looks so... Serene.

But for Chuck, every sense is heightened. He can smell Mike's heartbeat and taste him breathing, and it's too much. He wants to muffle his mouth against Mike's shoulder and press his hips up to Mike's, and he sincerely hopes this is the collar, because the feeling is a little too strong for his taste.

Mike's almost asleep, completely relaxed. Chuck reaches out under the covers for Mike's hip, and when he finds it, Chuck moves just a little closer.

"Chuck?" he mumbles sleepily. "Whatcha doin', buddy?"

"Nothing," he says, "I just think it'd be easier to stay warm if we’re closer, that's all."

Mike accepts the answer without a second thought, and relaxes again.

It's unnoticeable, when he starts. Mike doesn't notice the slow shift of Chuck's leg against his thigh, and he’s honestly started drifting back to sleep.

Mike regains a little awareness when Chuck buries his face in Mike's neck, though; a quiet whine buzzes against his skin and gives him goosebumps.

“Chuck? You okay, man? You’re kinda... Close.” Mike swallows nervously, half-heartedly hoping Chuck is going to regain his senses and go back to his own bed, while the sexually-frustrated, completely selfish side of him is silently urging Chuck to keep doing whatever he’s doing. He’s pretty sure he knows what’s going on, but he’d rather not jump to conclusions.

He hates to admit that it's _Chuck_ that's had him frustrated, but... If he's being honest with himself, he hasn't gotten off in a couple months, now that Chuck is supposed to be with him at all times, and the dreams that hit him almost every night now always end just moments too soon. At least he could blame that on his body, if it happened. But it never does, and he always wakes up too warm and Chuck always looks too... Appetizing.

“‘M sorry,” Chuck mumbles into his shoulder. “I swear it’s the collar, I _swear_ ,” he says, grinding himself against Mike’s leg a little harder, not bothering to try to be discreet about it.

His hand slips down his pants shamelessly, and he muffles another noise against Mike. It's embarrassing what the collar is making him do, making him _want_ to do, and at this point, he's truthfully surprised that he hasn't already shoved both of their pants down and climbed onto Mike’s lap.

Wait, that sounds like a brilliant idea.

He barely has enough self-control to push the image out of his head, but it lingers at the back, and Chuck tries to deny that he's just moved higher on Mike's thigh.

...Scratch that. There's no way to deny that he's nearly straddling him.

Mike doesn't seem to mind that he's almost on top of him (or that Chuck's fucking forward into his own hand on top of him). In fact, if anything, he seems like he's holding back. His fingers are tightly clenched in his sheets, and Chuck hopes it's because he doesn't want his hands wandering and breaking his end of their ‘deal’ (rather than being because Mike really, honestly doesn’t want to touch him). His mouth is pressed into a thin line that only lets him breathe ragged puffs through his nose, his expression a grimace, and if Chuck listens carefully over his own heavy breathing, Mike's holding back sounds of his own. Chuck glances down, and _wow_ , yeah, Little Lieutenant Chilton is standing at attention, how in the hell didn't he notice sooner?

He thinks that's honestly a pretty dumb thing to call someone’s erection, but he's inside his own head; no one will ever know.

Before he gets completely distracted trying to think of better ways to mentally refer to Mike's, uh, little soldier, Chuck shifts his balance off of the hand beside Mike's hip long enough to grab Mike's wrist, pulling it up to his leg and keeping it there. He swears he can feel the back of his neck tingling, and he practically doubles over when everything shifts and the collar has definitely just done something to his head.

Mike’s thumb is digging into the inside of his thigh, heat bleeding through the fabric of his pajamas and soaking into his skin. _God_ , all he can think about is how _great_ that hand would feel palming him, hot and maybe a little too hard, skin rough from training--then he's making an almost shrill, muffled sound into Mike's neck, cumming over his knuckles and into the fabric of his pants.

Mike gives him time to ride it out, not moving out from under him, just letting Chuck take his time coming back to Earth.

When Chuck is finally capable of movement, he sits up a bit. His sleeping pants are already becoming uncomfortable, the wetness close to seeping through against... Mike. Oh God, Mike.

He quickly gets off of the lieutenant's lap and sits on the edge of the bed, almost falling off completely in the rush to separate himself from Mike. He realizes one hand is still covered in cum, and he tries to wipe it on his pants as discreetly as possible. He should probably just burn them, there's no way they'll ever be clean again.

"So--" "Uh--"

They both start at the same time and both stop to let the other speak. Chuck shakes his head and forces his mouth closed, and while Mike wants to hear what he has to say first, Chuck won't back down.

"So," Mike starts, "I guess that's what the collar does if you go too long without bonding." He laughs nervously, and Chuck's zipped-shut mouth just barely crooks into a grin on one side. He nods.

"Hey, Mike, I can... Y'know." Chuck gestures vaguely in Mike's direction, and Mike cocks his head to the side, confused.

"You can... What?" Mike's not sure what Chuck is trying to say (although it must be something uncomfortable if he's trying to get Mike to finish his sentence instead of just saying it himself).

"I just mean, if you want me to return the favor, I wouldn't mind. That's all I'm saying. Because, you, uh, helped me out. So if you want me to help you out, I can. No problem."

It clicks in Mike's head, and his face is suddenly redder than it had been when Chuck was actually on top of him.

"No," he mutters. He can barely believe he's about to say this. "I'm fine, Chuck; you don't need to do anything."

He's just turned down a handjob from the gorgeous, lanky, blonde guy he's been dreaming about for weeks. He's rock-hard, he's pretty sure there's precum staining the sweatpants he's sleeping in, and even if he's done the right thing, he hates himself just a little. His _libido_ hates him, anyway.

He sits up, trying not to make it quite so obvious to Chuck how turned on he is, and carefully makes his way to the bathroom.

"Just... Give me a minute."

When the door slides shut behind him, the first thing Mike does is cup his hand over his mouth and groan. Fuck, he’s _hard_.

He debates with himself for a moment, wondering if it'd be morally alright for him to get off while the memory of this is still bright and vivid; while he still has that final, high groan repeating in his mind.

His libido is screaming for him to, but it... Just doesn't feel right.

He takes a deep breath before running the sink cold and trying to rinse his face of the heat in his cheeks. He's trying to level his breathing, and succeeding, for the most part, but that still doesn't solve the problem in his pants.

He supposes the only thing he can do is wait it out. He is _not_ jerking off with Chuck only a door away, probably changing into new pants.

When he does finally reemerge from the bathroom, Chuck is sitting on the edge of his bed (wearing a different, cleaner pair of pajama bottoms), and looking embarrassed.

Mike raises his hand when Chuck opens his mouth, no doubt to apologize.

"Let's just go to sleep, okay?" Mike offers, and Chuck gives him a small nod before standing.

Mike stops him when Chuck heads for his own bed, offering him a soft smile when Chuck turns to face him again.

"It's still cold. I don't mind, if you still want to... Yeah." He can't think of a way to word it that isn't 'sleep with me', even if he's honestly doubting the innocence in Chuck slinking under his covers beside him in the first place.

They settle into his bed under the covers with their backs to each other. They both try to sleep, but neither quite can. After a few minutes, they both realize that the other isn’t asleep, and after a few more minutes, the quiet starts feeling awkward.

“Why were you in the program?” Mike asks out of nowhere, just to be able to say something.

Chuck laughs quietly. “They don’t exactly tell you what you’re getting yourself into.”

Mike wonders if Chuck’s going to say anything else, but he guesses not when Chuck starts snoring. He grins and hopes he’ll remember to ask some other time, glad for the moment that things between them aren’t too weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo! it's finally done! part 7, i mean, not Roommate as a whole.  
> i do intend to start making regular updates again, now that 97% of the things that had kept me from updating are no longer such prevalent issues  
> i also have a page with everything together on my tumblr, a [Roommate archive](http://www.sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com/roommate), if you will.  
> anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter and are enjoying Roommate overall! thanks for reading! uwu


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